


Ash To Inferno

by cassowarykisses



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassowarykisses/pseuds/cassowarykisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Crucible is about to go pyrotechnic, and Perceptor needs to get out of there. Deadlock has other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ash To Inferno

He probably wouldn’t have heard the footsteps anyway, Perceptor reminded himself later.

How would he tell it apart from the ever-present scrape of shifting metal? The leader of the small squad sent to guard him even told him to dial down his audials so he didn’t start at everything. Important information would be sent over comm, Perceptor was told. Audio is a distraction. 

And how likely was it that anyone could have heard that Crucible-powered inversion bubble forming? The squad assigned to him - it never felt right calling them “his” - certainly hadn’t.

 

The Decepticon stepped out right in front of him. Perceptor froze in his tracks, but not before the other bot had whirled into a combat-ready position.

He was the same dingy grey and black as the rest of the battefield, but Perceptor would bet he was white or silver under the stains. Or at least a cleaner shade of grey.

Belatedly, Perceptor realized that he should have drawn his weapon. He held it nervously, hoping it was hard to tell. But really, the Decepticon was a soldier, and the way his optics narrowed and his lip curled were tells enough.

Perceptor fully onlined his audials, bracing himself for a wave of noise. It didn’t come. There was just the distant rumbling of the Crucible, and the closer sound of laser fire, too far off to be an immediate danger. They were alone, That could be good news or bad, depending.

"The Crucible is about to go pyrotechnic," he blurted out, hoping the Decepticon understood what he meant. No response. "The fission generators - the ones that rely on the spark simulators - "

"I know." said the Decepticon.

Perceptor let his gun drop to his side. “Oh,” he said. “We need to leave - the Autobots are evacuating the area because of projected death counts. Well, not  _projected_ , really, but  _feared_  since the previous tests of the Crucible have been … ” he trailed off.

"So devastating?" the Decepticon asked.

"Yes," he agreed reluctantly. "To both sides."

The Decepticon shrugged. “So what’s this about ‘we’”

"Just let me by," Perceptor said. "We don’t have to work together. We’ll just both die if we stay." 

"What, you think I own this path?" the Decepticon snorted.

Perceptor opened his mouth, then closed it. “I think you’re armed,” he said at last. Privately, he thought  _what path?_

But that would’ve been giving away too much, even for him.

The Decepticon barked laughter. “Get going, Autobot. I’ve got better uses for my gun than some civilian running from a fight.”

Perceptor felt relief break over him. The insults didn’t matter to him. He darted past the Decepticon, glad to get even a little bit closer to base. 

And then, of course, he felt the shot hit his leg and he cried out. Looking back on it, it never would have killed him. But it certainly brought him down.

"Mistake one: don’t trust me." the Decepticon walked towards him, and this time, his footsteps were clear. "There are civilians like you everywhere, cozying up to a fight with your - your fancy, Senate-approved guns, and then turning tail when you see blood." He kicked at Perceptor’s chest, flipping him over so they could see each other’s faces. "I always have energy to shoot a couple of you."

"The Crucible is real," Perceptor cried. 

"Pfft. Genericons have known that for years, and believe me, they learned after you Autobots." the Decepticon knelt down, and leaned closer. "You just think it going pyrotechnic is an accident."

Perceptor panted in pain, and the Decepticon snarled. His hand went to his gun, but he paused. He sat down and leaned back, looking up at the thick chemical smoke obscuring the sky. 

After a moment, he glanced down and met Perceptor’s optics, then leaned back again and flicked on his comm manually.

"What are you doing?" Perceptor asked, forcing himself into a sitting position.

"Calling you in," the Decepticon answered. "I’ve got an … interest in cleaning up the battlefield. Just like you mechs had an interest in cleaning up the Dead End."

Perceptor stared at him. “I didn’t even live in Rodion.”

The Decepticon shrugged again, bringing one of his guns up to rest on his lap. “So what? There were plenty of other Dead Ends in other cities, even if you had your own cutesy names for them.”

He continued, with a glee ill-concealed by his attempt at a matter-of-fact tone, “You brought us in to the Institutes for our brain modules. Now you’re going off to the Crucible for your spark.” He jabbed Perceptor right in the middle of his chest and grinned. “What, you didn’t seriously think they were spark simulators? We’d build an army with that tech.” The Decepticon considered for a moment. “Now all we need is a place to get dragged off for t-cog experimentation and we’ll have the whole trinity.”

"That’s repulsive," Perceptor managed.

"Well, I hear it’s a good anesthetic." the Decepticon said. "That way you won’t have to worry your pretty teal paint off as you die."

"Anyways," he continued, flicking at one of Perceptor’s teal sections with his toe, "You don’t have long to wait."

It took an hour for a transport to arrive, five for Optimus Prime to break in and save them all, and six for the Crucible to break down over what had once been Cybertron’s largest hot spot.


End file.
